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<title>pasteurize my heart (milk me in the moonlight) by bobadeluxe</title>
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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26499988">pasteurize my heart (milk me in the moonlight)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/bobadeluxe/pseuds/bobadeluxe'>bobadeluxe</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Dungeons and Daddies (Podcast)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Milkman, At the mountain of dadness, Bad Flirting, Crack, M/M, Milk, Rating May Change</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 12:41:39</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,193</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26499988</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/bobadeluxe/pseuds/bobadeluxe</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Meryl was used to the luxury of waking up to fresh milk on his doorstep. So of course when he woke up to see his milk box empty, Meryl immediately flipped shit.</p><p>(No one is actually milked in the fic, yet)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Stud Stampler/Meryl Streep</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>19</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is so fucking stupid</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Meryl was used to the luxury of waking up to fresh milk on his doorstep. So of course when he woke up to see his milk box empty, Meryl immediately flipped shit. Was this an overreaction fueled by his desperation to maintain some 'normalcy' from his old life (i.e. milk) because it was recently turned upside down by his daughter? No, shut up. It was his god given American rights to enjoy a glass of milk in the morning. Also, his daughter needed milk for her cereal. What was he supposed to substitute for milk? Water? Meryl had dignity, dammit.</p><p>He checked the box again to make sure there was not something amiss. No, the empty bottles from yesterday were still there, not yet replaced by a new batch. Ugh. Meryl stomped back inside his house, ready to spend his entire morning writing some strongly-worded letters for Stampler Farm.</p><p>He got to around half of what he had to say before he was interrupted. Not by Amanda— thanks christ — the girl was sleeping in today, again. Somebody was at the door. It had to be the milkman, who arrived <em> way </em> too late than he was supposed to. Better late than never, but not by much; he was still irritated.</p><p>"Took you long enough!" Meryl swung the door open. "Why are you late..."</p><p>Instead of seeing his usual milkman, Carl, that meat grinder of a man — Meryl eyes were met with a pair of fat bosoms. Uh. Insulting enough to be at this level with someone, it got worse when Meryl looked up and saw who they belonged to. An unreasonably handsome man stood at his doorstep, with a smile so bright it <em> hurt </em>to look at. He was broad-shouldered, and well-built; a lifetime of labor evident by the pair of strong arms carrying a heavy milk crate, and the bulging pair of pectorals resting on top of it. </p><p>Meryl was not one to ogle.. usually. Whatever remarks he was going to say <em> died </em> before they came out of his mouth, instead he put one hand on his hip, then another on the doorframe. Meryl knew which was his best side, so he leaned toward it and hoped the morning sunlight would do his cheekbones justice. Good thing he was still in his bathrobe, because they were... comfortable.</p><p>"Hello there," Meryl greeted the new milkman, his voice sultry for no reason in particular. "You come here often?"</p><p>The milkman barked out a pleasant little laugh. Music to his ears, truly. "No, it's my first time actually! That is why I'm late, I'm so sorry, sir."</p><p>Oh, but he looked so good when he said <em> sir. </em> Look at those puppy dog eyes. "Don't apologize, it happens to the best of us. New to San Dimas?"  Meryl guessed from his accent.</p><p>He nodded. "Yes, I just moved back from New York to help my family with the farm."</p><p>Huh, he was related to Carl? Seriously? If Meryl squinted, he supposed he could see the resemblance. Carl's broken nose and facial scars set them apart, but they were similarly built with the same blonde hair, and blue eyes. Though it was obvious which Stampler Meryl preferred.</p><p>"Interesting," Meryl muttered out loud. Not the story of how he moved back from New york, but him. Just the concept of him in general.</p><p>"So, uh, may I?" He jiggled his milk (ha) to get Meryl's attention.</p><p>"Oh, sure. It's over there." Meryl gestured to his milk box; an insulated box he put on the porch.</p><p>Milkman had to bend over to replace his milk. Meryl tried not to look at his shapely behind — and failed. He thought something along the line of how height didn't matter horizontally, then shook his head to get himself under control.</p><p>The milkman stood up to his annoying impressive height. "There you go, sir. I gave you one extra for my tardiness."</p><p>"You don't have to – "</p><p>"Please, I insist," he said, in a firmer tone of voice that was just as attractive.</p><p>Well, who was he to deny this nice young man's generosity? "Let me go get your money."</p><p>"Thank you, sir." Milkman flashed him another charming smile.</p><p>"I don't have my wallet on me," Meryl tried to give him a hint.</p><p>He did <em> not </em>take it. "Take your time, I'll wait."</p><p>Meryl was starting to get desperate. "<em> I'm naked under these." </em></p><p>Milkman remained oblivious still. "That's nice."</p><p>This was getting humiliating now. Meryl gave up, his daughter was going to wake up soon, and she needed her milk. No time to seduce the milkman if just his face didn't do the trick. He went inside to get his wallet, then tipped the Milkman generously when he came back.</p><p>"Oh, I think you made a mistake, sir." He tried to give him back the money.</p><p><em> Fuck </em>, Meryl was going to die. "It's your tips."</p><p>"But.. I'm late." The milkman looked equal parts guilty and confused.</p><p>"Just take it. I'm rich."</p><p>That worked, Milkman pocketed the money. "Have a good day, sir." </p><p>Meryl hated to see him go, but he sure loved to see him leave. He stood there on the porch, watching until the milkman was just a dot in the distance.</p><p>Then he remembered — he never got the man's name.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>They made it look so easy in cartoons to fuck the milkman. Wives country-wide constantly cheating on their husbands while they were away at work. Many, many, kids ended up looking like the milkman rather than their mommy and daddy. The slutty milkman myth made them out to be much more sexually available than they actually were. Real milkman just said crap like "You should visit our farm sometimes, milking cows can be very therapeutic" and then they <em> left. </em> They didn't care if you were the famous movie star Meryl Streep, and they didn't notice you were wearing <em> Lanvin Scandal </em>.</p><p>Meryl used to go on a date every week during his prime. The heart was a muscle, so you must put it to work until critical failure. He couldn't do that <em> now </em> after he found out he had impregnated one of the aforementioned weekly date women. Apparently, Vaseline could break down condoms. Pierce was <em> furious </em> , this looked worse on her than him as it were. Not like he could marry her to take responsibility though, and she would've hated that anyway even if he could. Instead, he could <em> unofficially </em> share custody of their daughter, and helped her cover up the news with a considerable amount of money and string-pulling. Pierce Brosnan never had a baby, she just took a one year hiatus to reevaluate her career. They were never involved romantically, it was simply to promote their movie. That was all the public eyes needed to see.</p><p>Anyway, Meryl had been abstinent for an embarrassingly long time. He hadn't had an orgasm since Amanda was conceived, and he <em> really </em> looked forward to changing that without 'taking the matter into his own hands.' (Pierce didn't like it when he called his cock that, let him tell ya.) Meryl wasn't looking to cheat on his spouse with whoever was present at the house during the day. However, his nightlife died a sudden, tragic death, and Sexy Milkman just happened to be there during the rare, few hours Meryl had to himself in the morning. It would be convenient if he could provide a little something <em> something </em>apart from his wonderful company. </p><p>So far, he did not have much luck seducing the milkman. Perhaps he was just rusty, perhaps he was terrible with men. Either ways, good things took time.</p><p>Pierce dropped Amanda off at his place on Friday evening, as they've agreed upon. She showed up dressed to the nines, make up, hair — perfect. Instead of a purse though, she was carrying Amanda. Meryl felt something akin to pride in his chest every time he saw her. Amanda took after him more than her mother. She had his eyes, his hair, and his skin tone. She was a cute little thing — even when she was drooling over her lace-trimmed collars.</p><p>Pierce handed her to him, but not without a quib. "Don't drop her."</p><p>Two could play this game. "How about <em> you </em> don't drop her." Checkmate.</p><p>"What? Of course, I won't drop her!"</p><p>Amanda was giggling, amused at her parents. "Good, I won't drop her either."</p><p>"We will be equally <em> not </em> dropping her!"</p><p>"Fine!"</p><p>Meryl took his daughters into his arms, she immediately beat the shit out of him. She was just being playful, yelling<em> papa papa! </em> in her tiny voice, and banging her fists against his cheek. They said you had to teach your child not to play rough, but <em> come on, </em> she was being cute. Not like she could do any damage at this age anyway.</p><p>"Got a plan tonight?" Meryl asked her. Amanda began pulling at his hair.</p><p>Pierce took the opportunity to brag. "Oh, there is this new place that just opened up. Everyone who's anyone will be there."</p><p>"Fuck me I guess." Oops. Right. He had a kid. Meryl gently rocked his daughter back and forth. "Or fart me. Whatever."</p><p>"Don't be dramatic! You can always check it out later." She rolled her eyes at him.</p><p>"When? On a <em> Tuesday night? </em> Why don't you tell me to go fart myself."</p><p>Pierce already made her way back to the car. "Go fart yourself bye!!"</p><p>She drove off. Ugh.</p><p>At least spending time with Amanda was fun. She was too young to enjoy the same things as him, but she was also very easy to please. She laughed at anything he said, it made him feel like the world's best comedian. They played together, had dinner together, and now they were lying on their stomach coloring her book.</p><p>An idea occurred to him. "Amanda, you like milk, right?</p><p>"Uh-huh," Amanda answered off-handedly. She was too focused on coloring out of line, trying to turn this dog green.</p><p>"Next time the milkman comes, you should say hi to him. Thank him for his hard work."</p><p>Meryl was not above exploiting his child's cuteness in this context. He would never let the media get its claws on her,<em> but</em> she could help papa impress the milkman. Different things. He didn't recognize who Meryl was, so they were safe for once. The Milkman seemed kind, like someone who would be fond of children. They might even learn his name his way. Men with children always attracted a certain sort of attention.</p><p>Easier said than done though. He let Amanda sleep in during the weekend, but even when she woke up early Meryl spent most of the morning <em> struggling </em>to bathe, clothe, and feed her. It was impossible getting her to stand still, and even more so getting her dressed. Teeth brushing took around, what, two years on good days? It was more doable on the weekends when they had nothing go on, and could afford to waste time. Though if they had an appointment — or a Milkman to catch — getting Amanda out of the door was a chore and a challenge.</p><p>It was worth the efforts though. Amanda looked adorable in her blue tailored dress. Meryl looked like a drowned, harassed rat. <em> Hopefully </em> , she would be enough of a distraction. (Meryl promised to take her out for ice cream later. Were you supposed to be bribing your daughter this much to get her to do <em> anything? </em> ) The Milkman arrived just on time, carrying a heavy batch of milk <em> in more ways than one. </em>Heh. Haha. Hahahahaha. Oh god, he was so sad. Meryl was a sad, sad man.</p><p>He went through many difficult emotions by the time Milkman stepped onto his porch. He gave Meryl his usual lovely smile, then he was ooh-ing and aw-ing at Amanda as planned.</p><p>"Aw, who is this little angel?" </p><p>"This is my daughter, Amanda," Meryl said. "Say hi, Amanda."</p><p>"Hi! Amanda greeted him. She was a surprisingly good sport.</p><p>"Hello, Amanda. I'm Stud — "</p><p>"<em> No way </em>." Meryl refused to believe it. Stud, right, as if he hadn't been referring to him as that in his mind along with some colorful names. "There's no way that's your farting name."</p><p>Stud barked out a startled laugh. "Farting?"</p><p>Meryl's face <em> burned </em> with embarrassment <em> . </em>"I'm trying to censor myself around her."</p><p>"But with fart? You know she's going to say fart all the time now, right?"</p><p>As if to demonstrate, Amanda yelled out loud. "Farting!"</p><p>"Ahhhhhh." Meryl died a little inside. "Ahhhh, sweetie, no, <b>ah</b>."</p><p>"Papa farts!"</p><p>This was his farting purgatory.</p><p>Stud collected his milk bottles, and replaced them with new ones. Meryl tried not to stare when he bent down, again. "My name is Meryl, by the way."</p><p>Felt weird to introduce himself. Usually he just assumed the other person already knew.</p><p>"Oh, that's a good one. Does everyone in your family have such pretty names?"</p><p><b>Ahhhhhhh</b>. "What?"</p><p>Stud just smirked. "It's nothing, sir."</p><p>When he stood up, Meryl reminded his daughter of their agreement. "Amanda, what do you have to say to the milkman?"</p><p>Amanda stared at Stud with her big, beady eyes. "You have big booby."</p><p>Meryl wished for death.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>theres actually more planned but im sleepy :-(</p></blockquote></div></div>
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